Yesterday morning I did everything but pick out what I was going to wear to work. When translated: I spend at least 10 minutes staring into a closet full of clothes, lamenting that I have nothing to wear.

Eventually, I decided on a black pair of pants, a beige colored suit jacket, a black scoop-neck tee and threw a pair of heels into a bag. Off I went.

I hopped in my car and as I’m nearing my job and stopped at a light, I figure now would be a good time to retrieve my shoes from the back. I reach behind my seat, grab the bag with my shoes and guess what? The shoes don’t match!

That’s not even the best part. When I arrive at my desk, I remove the shoes from the bag and not only do they not match, but I have two left shoes. That’s a problem, I have a left foot and a right foot.

W.T.H.

I also had somewhere to go after work and hadn’t planned on going home, so I did what any two year old would do when presented with shoes. I put those bad boys on and walked around like it was nothing.

I had to show my co-worker though, she said no one would notice. No sooner than she finished her sentence, in walked another coworker and she said, “I noticed when I was walking behind you, one is shiny and one is not.”

“Shut up.”

The left shoe on the right foot didn’t hurt at all and since most people think I’m crazy anyway, I prefer comical, I had no qualms about wearing two left shoes. It was only when I went to the ladies room that I felt a little self-conscious about who might be looking at my shoes. I silently cursed myself for not finishing the book, How to Levitate over a Public Toilet for Dummies.

After people finished laughing at my gaffe nobody seemed to pay much attention to my shoes until my last trip to the ladies room. I’m in one of the stalls handling my business and I hear someone say, “Bye Val, have a Happy Easter.” I’m thinking now how did they know it was me? Then I remembered the famous words of Mars Blackman: It’s gotta be the shoes.